


From the Outside, It's Shiny and Glamorous

by Zahri



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 5+1 Things, And vindictively pleased Victor has to deal with the other side of things for once, Coaching, Dealing with coaching elite athletes, Dealing with the minutae of life as an elite athlete, Drug testing, Gen, May You Have Students Just Like You, References to eating disorders, Yakov Feltsman Is So Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22874068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zahri/pseuds/Zahri
Summary: Yakov is always too soft with the ones he likes.5 moments of frustration while coaching an elite athlete, and one moment when it all comes together.
Comments: 39
Kudos: 166





	From the Outside, It's Shiny and Glamorous

**1.**

Lilia isn’t in the mood to do Yakov any favours. So, he has another young phenomenon. Another potential monster, learning at too fast a pace, putting strain on his joints, determined to do everything as soon as it is possible.

If Yuri had been a girl, the solution would have been simple. Debut at 15, push her through, wait to see if she grows or breaks or manages to metamorphose into perfection at just the right moment. Russia chews through and destroys dozens of girls and their hopes every year. The competition does not reward _women_. It tries to hold onto that moment on the cusp of puberty for as long as possible, when skill and flexibility and lack of fear and devotion and trust in a coach all crystallise into that one perfect moment, pushing the boundaries of young muscles and joints to their outer limit.

Lilia has worked with hundreds of such girls: skaters and dancers and gymnasts. She knows she’s good, she’s demanding, and she can look one of these children in the eye and see if they have the determination to persevere through, or if they will fall apart.

Yuri, however, is a boy, with a longer expected competition baseline. He needs to pass through puberty as effortlessly as possible, without affecting his rankings. He is honestly debuting too early; most coaches, looking at the elfin waif that he is, would have held him back one more year in the hopes of getting another growth spurt finished before they needed to worry about his Senior rankings. However, Lilia has seen his routines, seen his scores, and knows why Yakov has let him debut. The boy wants to forge forward and face real competition. He’s no longer challenged by the other Juniors. He wants the Olympics.

Yuri is going to be just shy of 17 for Pyeongchang. Difficult timing, given his current growth, but manageable. Yakov wants him ready for it. 

And so, she agrees to meet the child.

* * *

Small, is Lilia’s first thought. Probably two more growth spurts to go: his major puberty one and another around 19 or so, when he’ll fill out. Delicate features and a jawline that will sharpen further. Full of frustration and rage. He expresses himself through movement; the words never quite convey what he means, compared with his actions. Solid dance background from cross-training, but his first love is clearly the ice and where he puts all his focus.

Definitely one of Yakov’s. He argues back, knowing exactly how much leeway he has and coming right up to skate along that line with skill.

He’s a little nightmare about to grow into a larger one. If he’s going to get through the next two years, to make the Olympic team, he needs personal attention and someone to bully him through every meal in his diet plan, every centimetre of growth, every shift in his proprioception.

Lilia can already see the eating disorder in his slender wrists and his cheekbones and his bright, wild eyes.

She handles him like the rebellious angry child that he is. Checks his teeth; no acid staining on the enamel, good. His flexibility is impressive for a boy of his age, and he’s clearly putting in the work to maintain it.

Yakov is always too soft with the ones he likes. Yuri needs to spend more time with adults who aren’t impressed by his massive natural talent. She’ll give him some more discipline, give him the skills to train through the looming threat of a growth spurt. 

Retrain his proprioception every morning with ballet where the stakes aren’t as high and the falls hurt less if he forgets exactly where his wrists end, how much drive his shoulders generate on a spin, at what angle his ankles cross.

Bedtimes designed to ensure he gets enough sleep and balanced meals placed in front of him and expectations that he account for his movements, complete his schoolwork, and stick to his mandated exercise plans.

It’s not going to be fun for either of them, but well. Lilia and Yakov have trained champions before. Yuri will either flourish or he’ll burn out. At least with Lilia supervising, he has every possible chance to push through. 

* * *

* * *

**2.**

Yakov stares down at the text message from Victor, saying that he’s leaving the country today, don’t worry about him.

His first response is to leave an irate, frustrated voice message for the boy. This obsession of his has gone far enough.

The next is a snippy reminder that Victor is still part of the registered testing pool and WADA isn’t as patient as he is.

If the boy has disappeared off overseas without letting anyone know his location, Yakov isn’t going to listen to any whining from Victor over sanctions. Russia is under enough scrutiny at present without deliberately courting attention.

* * *

Victor manages to conceal his location for over a week, without any hints leaking onto social media. Yakov contemplates calling an acquaintance over in anti-doping to check whether Victor has in fact updated his details and is currently compliant, but decides the risk of alerting the authorities to the fact that Russia’s current figure skating champion has skipped the country without notice is too high. 

Victor’s been updating his own ADAMS account about any trips for the past few years. Yakov doesn’t have his login details. Yakov doesn’t need to file his athletes’ next quarterly whereabouts planning until mid June. It’ll be fine. 

(Yakov is definitely not worrying about one of his best skaters fucking up the chance to return home and get started on season planning by getting suspended for non-compliance).

* * *

Within hours of Victor finally slipping and letting up where he is (Japan. Hasetsu, Japan. Goddamnit, apparently every last sign of common sense has leaked out of Victor’s brain), Yuri has also disappeared.

Yakov does not manage to catch the boy before he makes it to the airport. He’s too busy trying to work out how the child has paid for the tickets without anyone noticing. And then, he’s too furious at the fact his credit card details have been borrowed to do much more than yell down the phone.

Yakov gives his idiot athletes 24 hours to show some sign of good sense, then he logs in to Yuri’s ADAMS account to check his whereabouts has been updated. (Yuri is underage. Yakov doesn’t trust his underage athletes to remember to put in every movement notification, so he insists on having all their passwords). He’s mildly reassured by the fact that not only is Yuri’s location updated, but the daily movement layout suggests someone has actually put some thought into a training plan for the next few weeks.

Yakov vindictively wishes all three athletes good luck with the extra testing that WADA and JADA are undoubtedly about to drop on their heads. JADA would just LOVE to catch Russia out on a secret doping ring (not that the Federation would be stupid enough to set such a thing up in a foreign country, when there are so many better options within Russia itself). They can all enjoy their blood draws and pee testing together and think about the fact that if they were well behaved, normal athletes, nobody would be paying attention to their off-seasons.

* * *

* * *

**3.**

Victor stares at the pdf that's just dropped in his inbox.

Victor is used to the Yakov Feltsman routine for Worlds. His job, generally, is to show up, show off for the fans, stick as close as possible to the hotel outside of public and private training sessions, and stay out of the way while Yakov wrangles athletes across multiple divisions. 

Victor's never been sent a Worlds schedule that looked like this.

There are his group warm-ups, rink time, costuming and make-up, competition times and press conferences listed. So far, so normal. There are also all of Yuuri's listed. Some of these overlap.

Victor's used to Yakov being flexible enough to allow things like his preferred sleep in on competition days. This schedule has him up at 7am at the latest.

It's colour coded. What Yakov expects Victor to be wearing at each point is marked. Where he is expected to be, every half hour, is marked. Even his mealtimes are marked, and Yakov hasn’t bothered doing that since Victor was 19 years old and still had the bad habit of losing track of time and forgetting to eat during competitions unless someone shoved a protein bar in his hand.

It feels like an insult. Did he not prove his ability to handle Yuuri’s competitions during the Grand Prix series? Just because this is the first time he and Yuuri have been at the same competition at the same time is no reason for Yakov to micromanage him like one of the _Juniors_.

Victor heads for Yakov’s office as soon as he reaches the rink.

* * *

Yakov is entirely unsympathetic about Victor’s concerns regarding the schedule.

"But what about this?" Victor points at an unavoidable press conference he has to attend that clashes with Yuuri's public training with the rest of the Japanese team.

Yakov just looks at him. "You wanted to coach, Vitya. Figure it out. Is your responsibility to yourself or to your athlete more important to you?"

Victor goes still. Of course Yuuri is more important. Hasn’t he shown that enough times in the last year? It’s just… every time he thinks he’s got a handle on what he has to sacrifice and compromise on to get this to work, he hits another unseen rut in the ice. And balancing the expectations of two federations who are largely uninterested in talking to each other or making exceptions, even for the reigning world champion, is a lot harder than just daring the FFKK to censure him when they’re not happy. He has to consider the impact on Yuuri as well as himself, and Yuuri’s still convinced, despite all evidence to the contrary, that the JSF will just focus their support on a less difficult skater if he’s too much trouble.

Victor hadn’t realised how much time Yakov has spent spotting him from consequences of his actions until the first time he’d had to speak to the JSF on his own and realised that the cards he’d always held over the FFKK had no value in the face of their polite demurrals. 

Yakov relents, a little. "Vitya. Why do you think we travel with a _team_? You're not expected to do everything yourself. Go ask someone who's free to cover for you during your clashes."

"…How do I find that out?" Victor asks.

Yakov forwards him the full schedule. Victor opens the document and stares at the riot of colour in disbelief. "How can you keep track of anything on this?" he asks. The locations of 12 people are marked out in 15 minute increments all day, including meals and sleep schedules. It's obsessive. It also, as Victor starts to puzzle things out, involves minimum 18 hour days for Yakov with little in the way of breaks.

"And this is why the schedules I give my athletes simply include where to be and when," Yakov grumbles, running his finger down his tablet screen. "Ask Lilia if she'll cover for you. She'll be free, and she likes Katsuki."

Victor still isn’t sure if ‘like’ is the right word for how Lilia feels about Yuuri. ‘Covetous’ might be closer. She had insisted on assessing Yuuri herself before assigning him classes and practice space, sniffed once, made several sarcastic remarks about the dreadful effect of skating boots on his level of foot flexibility, and then proceeded to schedule him into the best studio at times when she would be present or nearby. Victor’s not sure that Lilia has praised Yuuri outside of backhanded compliments in the three months since, but ballet seems to be the one place in his life where Yuuri easily interprets finicky corrections as the praise they are, rather than a disparagement of his skills.

And Yuuri’s used to having Minako as a stand-in coach (most recently at Japanese Nationals, though Minako has apparently been filling in when needed since Yuuri was seven and at his first local competitions), so having another prima ballerina complain to him about his artistry, lines and his landings not being delicate enough may actually be more reassuring than the other options available.

“Lilia would work,” Victor says cautiously. He points to the next issue he sees in his spreadsheet. “Is it possible for me to arrive late at this All Russia team meeting? I could probably run it myself by now.”

Yakov raises an eyebrow at him. “You will still need to make an appearance. No more than half an hour late.” He makes the adjustment on the spreadsheet. “Next.”

As they run through and Yakov agrees to or dismisses each of Victor’s suggestions for dealing with the most awkward clashes, Victor feels he understands a little better why everyone keeps telling him that coach/athletes are not feasible at an international level of competition. He also feels more determined to make it work, because with some flexibility, it should be possible.

* * *

* * *

**4.**

The interrogation over his medical records at Yubileyny is intensive. Yuuri finds himself in a room with the site doctor who speaks the best English, going over every rolled ankle, possible concussion and strained muscle in his clinical notes. All the way back to his Japanese childhood medical files. Including his wrist fracture at age 6 from falling off a jumping castle.

Then Dr Ivanova looks at him piercingly, and it gets worse.

"Why _don't_ you have a prescription for anti-anxiety medication?"

"What?"

"They're not a prohibited class of drug. You wouldn't need a TUE to take it. This wouldn't be a problem for you to have a prescription. Why hasn’t it at least been trialled?”

Yuuri shrugged. “I didn’t want to.” It’s the easiest thing to say. The few times Coach Cialdini had convinced him to go to counselling were bad enough. Medication had seemed like giving in, admitting that he wasn’t able to cope on his own. 

Dr Ivanova flips through the notes again. “So. It's been suggested before.”

“Yes.” Yuuri stares at the desk in front of him.

"You have good days and bad days, right?" Yuuri nods, finding the scratches on the wooden desk fascinating. "Look. The point of taking the medication is so that you have more good days and less bad days. It doesn't mean your performance will be any better on your good days; we're just trying to make sure that you have the best possible chance of having a good day at competitions, and that you have what you need to cope.”

Yuuri sighs. “I know.”

“But you decided not to give it a trial, because?”

I should be strong enough to cope without drugs. I don’t know if it’ll impede my edge or reactions. "Everyone's going to say that it's cheating."

"Okay, yes, some people are going to. You move to Russia, get access to the sort of full support medical program that you should have already had access to in the United States, and you get a new medical prescription. Some people are going to take that the wrong way. But receiving appropriate medical treatment for a condition that affects your ability to skate is _not cheating_."

"We will make sure everything prescribed is brand name, in blister packs, with the prescription stickers on the boxes. You will keep it in those boxes and your script will travel with you. So, if you do find yourself in warm-ups at a competition rink needing to take some medication, you have the proof of what you are taking sitting right there with you. No suspicious little bottles. No tablets handed to you by a support staff member. Just your own medication, in your own skate bag, clearly labelled in multiple languages."

"But, because everyone will be suspicious, I would like to know if you've seen a sports psychologist or a counsellor or someone else in the United States who we can obtain a report from saying this was an existing problem that you should have had a prescription for before you moved to Russia. Because, if WADA decides to investigate, I want paperwork, ready to present, showing this is a long term issue that is finally being treated properly. Not that it will be a problem. Because the medications we will give you are absolutely permitted."

Yuuri looks up at Dr Ivanova. He knows it’s a stereotype, but this does not sound like what he was expecting a Russian team doctor to tell him. This sounds like bureaucratic overkill.

"Plus," and Dr Ivanova grins evilly at this point, "the entire medical team here would _love_ to rub the Americans' faces in the fact that their medical screening was insufficient and failed an athlete. This is good press for us. 'Unnecessary medical prescriptions to improve performance' this is not."

Of course Yuuri's heard the rumours. The whole sports community is aware of the current anti-doping attention focusing on Russia. "Is it really that bad, right now?"

Dr Ivanova shakes her head at him. "It's nothing you need to worry about. Yes, we are all under increased scrutiny right now. But it will not be hard for us to ensure you are protected from it. Yakov Feltsman hates having any of his athletes' credentials being questioned, so we know how to make sure everything is clear and above board."

"Now. Has anyone ever given you any of their meds to try? No? In that case, I think we should delay any further conversation about such medication until April. I do want to get you set up with a sports psychologist immediately....”

* * *

* * *

**5.**

Rostelecom Cup is a nightmare, from start to finish.

Victor hasn't been looking forward to it, to seeing Yakov's disappointed face and listening to his sarcastic comments about play acting as a coach. The fact that the Russian Federation could express their disapproval over the events of the last seven months in person has been an afterthought in comparison. He’s no stranger to butting heads with the FFKK by now, after being one of the faces of the sport for over a decade. Getting jerked around for not doing exactly what he’s told is more familiar than anything else so far this season.

The knock comes at the hotel door as Victor has Yuuri’s costumes laid out across his bed, checking that they hadn’t wrinkled during travel. Yuuri is lying diagonally across the other bed, messaging his parents to confirm they’ve arrived safely. Yuuri drops his phone to the bed with a groan and their eyes meet.

“I’ll get it,” said Victor, heading for the door.

“We’ve been checked in for all of half an hour,” complains Yuuri, as he slides off the bed, walking over to grab one of the complimentary bottles of water in the room, cracking it and taking a drink. “Couldn’t they wait until after I’ve competed?”

Victor opens the door, to find a FFKKR representative and an anti-doping official, both of whom he knows by sight and doesn’t bother to remember by name. He sighs inwardly. “Good afternoon,” he says cheerfully. No need to antagonise anyone. “Can I help you? Who are you here to see today?”

“Victor Nikiforov?” says the anti-doping official.

“Yes, that’s me,” Victor says patiently.

“You’ve been selected for testing. Please come with us.”

Thoughts race through Victor’s head. I’m not competing this weekend, so it’s not actually competition testing. You really are upset with me being in Japan for the past seven months if you’ve grabbed me for testing at the first possible moment since I re-entered the country. This is national testing, isn’t it? What he actually says is “This is just me? Not my athlete, Yuuri Katsuki?”

“Just you.”

“Could you please give me a moment to explain to my athlete what is happening?”

“As long as you do not leave our sight,” says the Federation representative. Victor’s pretty sure he’s clashed with this one before. They really do want him to stress with him how unimpressed the Federation is.

Victor turns and steps back into the hotel room, leaving the door open behind him, and switches back to English.

“They want me for a drug test.”

Yuuri puts down the bottle of water he was drinking from and tosses Victor a sealed bottle. “Just you?”

Victor catches the bottle and nods in thanks. “Just me.”

Yuuri looks worried. “Do you _have_ someone who can chaperone? Do you want me to come?”

Victor shakes his head. “No. Stay here. I’d rather you rested. It should be quick; I’ll send you a message if I get delayed. The Federation probably just wants updated samples.”

“Well you’d better go,” says Yuuri. “I had no idea until this year that Russia was so particular about having regular testing data.”

They look at each other, the knowledge of a summer containing multiple out-of-competition tests for each of them lying between them. Yuuri has been selected for testing at both competitions so far, and at this point they’ve already guessed he’ll be on the testing lists again tomorrow. They both know the rate of testing they’ve been expected to participate in is well outside the normal, particularly during the off season. The JSF and FFKKR were both suspicious about the reasons and circumstances of their coaching agreement. Victor’s theory is that Japan has mostly wanted to deflect any allegations of cheating due to their top ranked Men’s skater now training with a Russian. Russia, conversely, was just trying to bully him to come home.

Victor smiles, but it’s the fake, publicity smile. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t get into any trouble.”

* * *

Victor doesn’t speak to the official or his Federation handler on the way to the testing facility. There’s really no point; he understands why he’s been pulled in for a test well enough.

The testing itself is as straightforward, brusque, and awkward as usual. Victor has never really gotten comfortable with an official staring while he pees, but it has been a fact of life since his early teens, and at this point is just something to be endured. The blood draw is quick and painless. He confirms his ID and that his name and number are printed correctly on the paperwork, signs where he is told to, watches as they attach stickers to samples and place them in sealed boxes. At moments like this he isn’t Victor Nikiforov, Living Legend of Russia. He is an athlete ID number; an interchangeable piece of meat to be weighed up and tested to see if he is still acceptable.

Full retirement seems ever more compelling each time he is shut in one of these small, antiseptic rooms. But even then, he’d soon be back in them as a chaperone for Yuuri or any other athlete he coached. 

They’re finished before dinner, thankfully. There’s a moment when Victor worries that he’s about to be dragged off to a meeting with the Federation, but he politely repeats that he needs to get back to his athlete and that he’s here as a coach; while he understands that they are anxious to meet with him, he has official responsibilities that he must attend to, including checking in at the competition.

It’s a good enough excuse to get him driven back to the official hotel. Yuuri meets him in reception, worry all over his face. Victor grabs Yuuri’s wrist and smiles insincerely at the FFKK representative as they head off to sign in and acquire lanyards and confirm details of the event.

* * *

The next day, Yuuri’s name appears once again on the ‘after Short Program’ testing list, to neither of their surprise. 

Before Yuuri can even get there, though, Mari calls him about Makkachin and Victor finds himself calling the airline to change flights. 

They can get through this. They will get through this. They have to.

* * *

* * *

**+1**

Yakov’s been deliberately hands-off about Victor’s return to Saint Petersburg with Yuuri Katsuki in tow. If Victor is serious about returning to compete while coaching, then Yakov’s not going to interfere with the coaching relationship, but there _are_ rules and expectations that Victor has to meet if he wants to train an athlete at the rink. If he’s not willing to comply, the two of them can go and pay for ice time somewhere else.

Victor comes to see him and agrees to set everything up formally. They get Victor registered as a junior coach at the facility, submit coaching accreditation paperwork (with his supervision hours actually properly signed off by Ice Castle Hasetsu, for a wonder), sign contracts, and hand over translated medical records for both Victor and Katsuki. Katsuki will have access to all the normal additional trainers and medical personnel and support staff that go with an international level senior athlete.

(Victor looks relieved when Yakov agrees to this immediately, contingent on the standard fee. Victor, it appears, may finally be growing up. Yakov decides not to ask how they’ve been coping for the past 8 months; he doesn’t need the heart attack the answer may produce).

Together, they hammer out schedules for both Victor and Katsuki that fit around everyone else at the rink. Both athletes are stuck with some non-ideal scheduling, but that’s what happens when you add two international athletes into an already busy timetable. Victor barely blanches, mostly fighting to ensure that Katsuki gets at least some largely-private time scheduled in on ice, along with ballet studio access.

* * *

As Head Coach at the facility, Yakov keeps an eye on Katsuki’s training, despite his refusal to interfere with Victor’s methods. Coaching another elite athlete is decidedly _not_ the normal way to transition into coaching, but they somehow seem to be making it work.

At present, Victor is off with one of the personal trainers in the gym. Katsuki has some unstructured ice time, meant for polishing his routines. He’s set himself up in a corner of the assigned rink with his phone propped on the boards, ready to record when needed.

Yakov keeps tabs on Katsuki’s actions absently as he works with Mila and Georgi; it’s the same level of disinterested attention that he gives any other athlete on the ice. His athletes like to say he’s got eyes in the back of his head and a sixth sense for trouble, but honestly, after this many years coaching, Yakov knows his skaters and can spot when they’re planning to do something they shouldn’t.

Katsuki has that determined expression on his face that Yakov has already categorised as ‘working on something and not happy with the results he’s getting’. 

Yakov’s had a few too many chats with Cialdini regarding the Victor-and-Yuuri situation this season, which ended up including athlete coaching tips for Katsuki once they both realised that Yakov would likely be inheriting responsibility for Katsuki at some point in the not-too-distant future. 

Most of what Cialdini told him he’s now seen himself. Reasonably coachable. The sort of anxiety that everyone pretends is purely competition nerves, but is very clearly more serious than that. Very polite. Takes corrections hard and to heart. Takes his coach at his word. Tendency to overwork. Tends to get obsessed with small flaws and catastrophise them. Katsuki would not cope well under his own direct coaching, but the combination of his stamina and calm stubbornness to complete assigned drills has been wonderfully motivating for some of Yakov’s own athletes, because Katsuki simply _does_ the sort of warm up that the rest of them normally complain through.

Katsuki is cleaning his Salchow. The jump looks immeasurably better compared to what he was throwing in competition 12 months ago. He gets the rotations in, and the landing is consistent. Katsuki, however, is clearly trying to fix something technical about it that he’s not happy with.

Yakov watches Katsuki. Jump. Land. Circle around to the boards, looking down at the ice, then pick up his phone and frown at it, muttering to himself. Reset.

During a lull while Mila and Georgi are both doing what they’re told for once and don’t need his fixed attention, Yakov wanders around the edge of the rink to Katsuki’s corner. Carefully watches the next Salchow.

"What was wrong with that one?" he asks mildly. Katsuki looks up from where he's scrutinising the lines on the ice, rattling off a quick answer.

"The angle of my blade on take-off was off. Twist led slightly from my shoulders, not my core. I didn't travel enough and had trouble getting my rotations in. Bent my knee too deeply on the landing to compensate."

Yakov blinks. Oh. Cialdini didn’t mention this level of self-analysis. He leans against the boards and raises an eyebrow. "That's a lot of corrections. How many things can you think about during that jump?"

Katsuki flushes and skates closer. "Two things."

"Then, what are the two most important changes you need?"

Katsuki replies without hesitation. "My takeoff angle and my pull for the spin."

Yakov looks down at the phone propped next to him. "May I?" Katsuki nods, and Yakov picks it up, pausing the video open in the coaching app. He scrolls backwards till he can see the footage of the last jump and slides it frame by frame until he sees the point when Katsuki’s shoulder starts the twist early, pulling Katsuki off alignment enough to cut the height of the jump. He hands the phone over. "There. That’s where you lost your core alignment. Use your hip more."

Katsuki looks down at his phone, rocking the image back and forth, then sets his phone back up to record and bobs his head. "Thanks." He circles around, heads back to his jump. The first one looks fine. The second one Katsuki initiates with his shoulder again, which cuts his height and travel distance, and looks frustrated with himself. He shakes out his arms and skates in a circle, running the motions of the jump with his arms, then sets up for a third try.

The height and twist are there, the rotation whipping around faster than usual. Katsuki doesn’t account for the speed and overrotates, fumbling his landing, ending up on his backside sliding on the ice. He pops back up to his feet, delighted. "Oh. I _felt_ that."

Yakov hands the phone back to Katsuki. "Do it like that again, but this time open a little earlier and spot your landing. Spin and spot." He glances back over at the other side of the rink and notices Mila has decided to switch from practicing her routine spins to pulling ridiculous body positions. He's left them alone too long. "Mila!" he yells, heading quickly back towards the girl.

He's not coaching Katsuki. But, as head coach of the facility, he finds he's not unhappy about having him as one of his athletes.


End file.
